


Lieutenant

by candyhue



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, 進撃の巨人 | Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan (Movies)
Genre: Other, Possessive Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Romance, Self-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:40:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27984741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candyhue/pseuds/candyhue
Summary: Years of education and training have led you to the prestigious title of a cadet in the Military Police. However, you quickly find behind the sparkling badge lies layers of corruption and negligence. One day, you receive an offer from a man that is known as “humanity’s strongest,” and get inexplicably drawn to him in the process...
Relationships: Levi/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24





	1. Chapter 1

Survival. In a world where morality and values had long decayed, the only thought left in one's mind was to breathe another breath, walk another step, eat another bite-

Well, at least, that was the case for most civilians. For the top ten graduates that were sent to the Military Police Brigade every year, the motto of 'survival' had morphed into a corrupt form of 'self-preservation'. Take the breath of another so that you can breathe, break the legs of those in your way so you can walk, prevent others from eating so you can eat as much as your heart desires. It was a horrid way of living that could barely amount to being 'human', but it would be quite hypocritical for me to criticize any further. After all, I'm a member of the Military Police Brigade myself.

"Study hard, my ass," I laughed to myself, kicking away the apple core that my patrol partner had carelessly tossed onto the ground. What's the point of graduating at the top of my class if I was going to be sent to a place like this; where the term 'justice enforcement' was actually just greed-fueled, brute force wrapped in a pretty bow and coated with sugar. 

"What are you mumbling about, Cadet?" My patrol partner and superior, Harold Westly, nudged me with his sweat-stained elbow. I could tell it was a gesture meant to be joking and flirty, but it really just left me feeling disgusted.

To cope with the disgusting world I was now trapped in, I had made several rules to abide by. 

Rule #5, Never anger a superior.

"Nothing, Private Westly. You must be imagining things," I responded with nothing more than a simple, sweet smile. 

"Really? I don't think I'd miss a word coming from that pretty mouth of yours," He sneered. Well, it was probably meant to be a seductive smile, but it really just looked like the leer of a common sleazebag. 

"You flatter me." I had to grit my teeth to stop from throwing up. Still, this perverted, sweaty hog was the better alternative to other patrol partners I've had. Others that would get deliriously drunk in broad daylight, fondle an unsuspecting passersby, then jump straight to violence when things didn't go their way. At least Westly bothered me instead of innocent civilians-

"Hey, you there! Hand over that bottle in your hand!" He suddenly barked at a hooded figure in the distance.

It seems I spoke too soon. 

At the officer's sudden outburst, everyone else in the area froze in place. Though it wasn't required by law, many citizens tended to do this to avoid attracting the attention of the drunk officer. Trying to escape now may make them angrier and cause a toddler-esque temper tantrum.

However, the hooded figure in question didn't stop, continuing their journey down the street. 

"Halt! This is an order from the Military Police Brigade!" Private Westly shouted again, his already ruddy face growing even redder. He was so stuffed with dinner rolls from the mess hall that he couldn't even run forward to grab the figure. 

Rule #26, Don't get involved in useless scuffles made by patrol partners.

I was prepared to turn a blind eye and slide out of the wide alleyway, but my movement was stopped by Harold Westly's obnoxiously squeaky voice.

"Cadet, what are you doing? Go grab them!" 

"Me?" I asked in disbelief. Why was he trying to drag me into this?

"Yes! Would you ignore an order from your superior?" He growled, spittle flying from his open mouth and landing on my cheek.

"...Of course not, Private Westly," I nodded tersely, sprinting forward to catch up to the hooded figure. The actual reason I left was to wipe away the spittle on my cheek without him noticing, but now that I was out, I guessed I would have to at least converse with the supposed convict.

"Excuse me, you are under the...very righteous order of the Military Police Brigade to stop where you stand," I called, not being able to stop an eye roll as I said it.

To my surprise, the figure actually stopped, turning around to face me.

"Stop where I stand? And what for?" 

I still couldn't see their face from under the shadows of the hood, but their deep, controlled voice indicated a male in their late twenties. It was actually quite pleasant to the ear, especially when compared to the barking and growling of the officers I was surrounded by on a daily basis.

"For..." Wait, why did Westly stop this guy anyways? I tried to recall what he had yelled before. "I believe Private Westly wishes to examine the bottle in your possession."

"Oh? Are we not even allowed to carry bottles anymore?" The amusement was quite obvious in his confident drawl. Was this man a foreigner or something? It was rare to see anyone talk back to a MPB official. In fact, it was kind of refreshing. I couldn't help the smile that inched its way up my face.

"The law states nothing of the sort. Perhaps Private Westly was just curious about your special item. Like a young boy eyeing a figurine?" I offered.

"Well, if that's the case," He lifted the bottle up to the sunlight for closer examination, "Then I will gladly comply. Wouldn't want to make the boy cry."

Bold. He was extremely bold for saying that. I could only hope Westly wasn't close enough to hear.

"T-that's a Lorees Henry 64 Edition Cognac!" Westly's eyes bulged at the bottle, finally having caught up, "H-how would a simple commoner like you have their grimy little hands on something like that?"

Instead of cowering, the figure turned to me, "Officer, I do believe you've lied to me. Rather than a young boy eyeing a figurine, these are the words of a spoiled brat looking to steal a figurine."

I could only stifle the laugh bubbling up my throat and pray for his life. To say such a thing in the face of an entitled officer was akin to a death wish.

"Y-you peasant! What impertinence!" Westly spat, reaching out to grab the bottle. However, it was swiftly pulled out of his reach in the blink of an eye. "Hey! Give me that!"

"And for what reason? From what I know, there is no law dictating a peasant's ability to hold bottles."

Bold, fearless, physically agile, mentally fortified, and extensive knowledge of law and vocabulary on top of it all. I narrowed my eyes at the figure in front of me. He was no common civilian.

"Well a peasant civilian would have no way of having such a precious item unless they stole it! You don't even know the value of what you're holding, do you?" He tried and failed once again to snatch the bottle, courtesy of the stranger's suspiciously agile movements.

"Private Westly, I suggest turning a blind eye to this matter," I was growing wary, trying to figure out the man's identity. Even warier when I took into account his uncommon stature, monotonous voice, and the expensive combat boots peeking out from underneath the hem of his coat. There was one person who immediately came to mind. 

No way?

"You've been rather impertinent lately, Cadet. Are you defying your superior?!"

No, dumbass; I'm trying to save your life. 

Rule #3, Don't get involved with powerful people. It's troublesome, and will most definitely end in a dangerous situation.

"Sir, this is out of concern for you and me both. I think that man is the Survey Corps'-"

"Levi Ackerman. Though, perhaps you'd better recognize the title 'Captain' Levi Ackerman," The hood was finally dropped, revealing the slightly smirking and thoroughly annoyed face of the Lance Corporal of the Survey Corps. Something about his roguish confidence gave a dark allure to his appearance, making it impossible for witnesses to take their eyes off of him.

"Lance Corporal Levi? Don't they say he has the skill of an entire battalion?"  
"It's him! Humanity's Strongest!"  
"What is someone like him doing in the slums?"  
"The Survey Corps? Has he come to save us from these damn Military Brigade officers?"

The civilians were alight with hushed conversation, a sight I had never before seen in my three years of patrol duty. Apparently, the same went for Harold Westly.

"S-shut up! What you speak is treason!"

Still, the slander didn't stop.

"The Military has been pushing us around far too much!"  
"Death to the Military Police Brigade!"  
"They do nothing but drink and pick fights all day!"

I didn't notice the smile on my face until my eyes met steely grey ones. Steely grey ones with a gleam of pointed observation. Eyes widening, I quickly replaced the smile on my face with a straight, neutral one before getting ready to handle the situation.

BANG. 

The sound resounded throughout the alleyway, instantaneously stopping any hushed conversations and threatening movements. I put my still-smoking pistol back into its holster and looked around with a cold glare, conditioned through many years of elite military training.

"That was a warning," I began, glancing to the sky where I shot before looking back to the crowd that had gathered at Levi's appearance, "However, such blatant threats to the Military Police Brigade will not go unnoticed. I'd advise you to keep this in mind going forward."

In truth, I only resorted to the pistol because I saw Westly reaching for his own, and if I knew anything about him, his bullet would not have ended up in the empty sky.

Rule #32, Always apologize profusely to superiors, even if nothing is your fault. Apologizing does not hurt; getting punished for not apologizing does.

"And Captain Levi, I'd like to offer an apology for our uncouth actions today. I assure you it will not happen again." That last part was a lie, since I fully expected Westly to try to get revenge for embarrassing him, but I threw it in for good measure.

"Hmmm. Your apology has been heard, but it seems that I am unable to accept," He responded, voice suddenly harsh and cold.

"E-excuse my impertinence, but for what reason?"

Why are none of my damn rules working today? Isn't a respectful apology enough?

"Well, the one I should be hearing an apology from is the sweating pig who dared to call me both a peasant and a robber," He continued, "Not only that, but stopping me when I was trying to get somewhere in a hurry? It's rather bothersome."

"You dare call me a sweating pig? Do you know who I am? What I can do to you?"

Westly was stupider than I thought. I had no idea where he got this pitiful courage from, but he had no strength, power, or reputation to hold above Levi Ackerman in any way. The only thing he had was status as a Military Police, but even that was weak compared to a famously regarded squad leader in the Survey Corps.

"Do tell. I will listen with utmost sincerity," The glimmer of amusement was back again. Levi Ackerman knew full well that Westly's bravado couldn't be backed up in any way.

"...Cadet!" Westly barked.

Damn. What was it this time?

"Sir?"

"What are you waiting for? Attack him!"

"What? Are you crazy?!" I couldn't stop the words from slipping from my mouth. Westly was insane if he expected me to lay a hand on the man who could single handedly kill countless titans. 

"This...feeble man spoke badly of the Military Police! As your superior, I order you to defend our honor!" He continued, bringing up his useless title as my 'superior' even though the only difference between our ranks was age. In skill, I far surpassed him. Perhaps that was why he threw me under the bus instead of fighting Levi himself.

"I deeply apologize for these rude actions," I turned to Levi Ackerman in a hurry, "We will do anything to make it up to you..." My words trailed off as I saw the expression on his face. He wasn't furious as I had expected, but openly smirking.

"Well? What are you waiting for, Cadet?" He mused, "Defend the honor of the Military Police Brigade, won't you? I'll be looking forward to it."


	2. Chapter 2

I looked to him in disbelief, "Sir, I hope you'll understand that Private Westly just said that in a drunken stupor! He has no idea what he is talking about, so I'll be taking him back to the Brigade Hea-"

"Well if you're not willing to make the first move, I guess I'll have to."

Before I could even process his words, my body instinctively dropped to the ground. 

The whistle of a knife slicing through air could be heard from where my throat was a second ago.

Shit. He's actually trying to kill me?!

I scrambled to my feet, grabbing around my holster for something to defend myself with. However, he didn't give me much time as he drew his arm back for another attack.

"Ugh!" I grunted at the sheer impact of the maneuver. Luckily, I had ripped off my entire holster belt in time to catch the sharp blade. A second too late and his knife would be lodged in my stomach.

"As I thought, your split-second judgement is incredible. Far above anything I've seen in a long time," He smiled, but it looked much more maniacal when he was holding a knife and trying to kill me with it. 

"Look, it would be a real shame if I died today, so can we please call this off?" I tried to negotiate, "I'll bring this issue up with the Brigade Genera- Gah!" 

I was cut off by another attack, this time straight towards my chest. I grabbed his wrist before it could pierce my heart, but didn't have enough strength to move it completely away. Instead, the blade sliced through my uniform and into my arm.

I gritted my teeth to keep from screaming. The alleyway was empty from when I shot the warning pistol, and I would have to keep it that way.

Rule #10, Don't attract the attention of citizens to any dangerous situation made by the MPB. They'll die in the blink of an eye, without compensation.

I had made this rule based on an event that I was a direct witness to not long after my acceptance into the MPB. It was my first taste of the cruelty and military corruption that was to come.

"Sir Ackerman? I think this is a bit unfair," I tried to keep my voice calm despite the cut in my arm, so deep that blood had already soaked through the thick jacket of my uniform, "I don't even have a weapon of my own."

"You have that pistol, don't you?" He raised a brow, eyeing the glimmering metal poking out of my holster.

"My pistol? You want me to use a gun?"

"You're quite cocky if you're thinking you could actually kill me with that," He laughed, the resulting sound a surprisingly pleasant, rumbling tone.

"Well that's not it, but the unwarranted use of firearms is strictly illega- shit!" I rolled to the ground as a knife sailed through the air just above my head.

"Look, we're even now," He pointed out, lifting two empty hands. The crazy bastard threw his knife at me and considered us even.

"Just...just kill me," I groaned, tired of rolling around on the dusty street floor. I had just gotten this uniform cleaned as well. 

"Sorry, but death doesn't come easy," He replied, "As humans, our sole mentality revolves around-"

"Survival? Self-preservation? I get it, okay?!" I burst, years of pent up frustration flowing out at the absolute worst time, "We live, we breath, we eat, we work, then we do it all over again until this damned selfish sense of survival is satisfied! To tell you truthfully, Lance Corporal, I'm quite sick of it."

I lunged forwards, the knife that had sailed over my head just seconds ago now in my hand. It was a cheap move to attack while he was distracted, but he still managed to move to the side just enough to dodge the blade.

Goodbye, world, I said my farewells. I couldn't think of a single person that dared to attack Levi Ackerman and walked out of it alive. There was also the fact that with that single attack, I broke about fifty of my Rules for Coping.

However, nothing happened. In fact, there was a moment of silence as he stared directly into my eyes, a shocked expression on his face.

"Hello? Are you awake?" I would die of embarrassment if he had defeated me while sleepwalking.

"You...you landed one on me," He said instead, turning to look at an area on his sleeve.

I belatedly noticed the paper-thin cut on his arm, a single bead of blood seeping into his otherwise pristine white undershirt.

"Wow, over a decade of training amounts to the power of a single thorn," I laughed bitterly. More than ever, it was clear that 'Survival' was the biggest scam life had to offer.

"Hey...you said you were sick of survival, right?"

Is this guy a mind reader? "Yes. Very much so. Why do you ask?"

"I have a proposition."

"You'll kill me painlessly?" I offered. It was a joke, of course; the last thing I expected to come out of his mouth. If there was going to be death, it would be far from painles-

"Join the Survey Corps."

Oh. Now that was the last thing I had expected to come out of his mouth.

"Though your reputation is quite stoic, you do have a knack for humor, Levi Ackerman," I laughed loudly, dropping all formalities. If I was going to die, might as well throw societal expectation out the window. Maybe I should take all my clothes off and run through the streets while I'm at it.

"If you're planning on joining, the title 'Captain Levi' would be much more fitting."

"Haha! Ha! Ha..." Wait...was he serious? My laughter faded as I scanned his face for any sign of sarcasm. However, my mind began to drift as my eyes fell over his straight, inky hair, turbulent grey eyes, delicately sculpted lips-

"I'm planning on training you to become my Lieutenant."

"Whuh?!" I snapped out of my trance, "L-Lieutenant?! Of the Survey Corps?!" I could only gawk. Lieutenant, as in, the position directly below him. Lieutenant, as in, a commanding officer of troops. Troops full of real people who went beyond the walls.

"I don't have that kind of training!" I finally found my voice, "Sure the MPB has the most rigorous education, but after graduation, we do nothing but laze around and get drunk all day!"

"That only tells me that once trained, you can reach heights that I could never expect," He replied easily, as if he had been expecting my words, "After all, I believe that even the current, untrained you has the qualifications to become a skilled Lieutenant."

"Qualifications? We fought for less than ten minutes, and I didn't even win! I've never even taken a step outside of Wall Maria, so what kind of qualifications could you possibly have seen?"

"Quick judgement, advanced combat technique, ability to demand attention, understanding of military structure, consideration towards civilians, respect towards superiors, and most importantly," He added pointedly, "A strong will to survive."

"...Excuse me? I don't know about the other ones, but that last qualification was most definitely incorrect." I snorted, "I believe I specifically mentioned wanting to die."

"But then why did you fight so ferociously?" He asked, taking a step closer, "Why waste your energy to block and dodge and roll onto the floor just to avoid the sweet release of death?"

"Well daring to attack you is a death sentence on its own," I pointed out, backing away from his sudden advance, "Also, it would be rather lame to die without a fight."

"You say this now, but you'll soon realize this tenacious trait of yours." 

Another step forward.

"And if I don't?" 

A step back.

"Oh, you will. I will personally make sure of it." 

I tried to back up again, but my back hit the cold brick of a wall. I was trapped.

"...You're a bit too comfortable around someone you tried to kill just moments ago," I muttered, finding it difficult to breathe.

"Well, I wasn't just trying to kill you. I was testing you," He laughed in a low tone. He was so close that I could pick up the fresh scent of soap on his clothes and spiced cognac on his breath. 

...Wait. Cognac?

"...You're drunk."

"Drunk?" Levi blinked in surprise, "Well, I did take a couple of sips, but that's not enough to become drunk off of."

It now made sense how I had managed to even land a scrape on him earlier. Why I was still alive right now. It was probably also why I could now see a light flush to his cheeks.

"Perhaps your choice of alcohol was a bit stronger than usual," I laughed, pent-up tension leaving my shoulders, "Because I think it's affecting you to some extent."

"What? No, I'm completely sober-"

"Look, take a shower, get some sleep," I sighed, sliding sideways to escape his cage, "and if you still feel the same way about recruiting me to the Survey Corps, come find me. And if you remember the moment I scratched you with my knife and get pissed...come kill me," I shrugged, walking out of the alleyway.

"Wait!" He grabbed my wrist before I could fully escape, "What's your name?"

I considered giving him a fake alias, but it didn't seem like he was the gullible type.

"[Y/N]. Cadet [Y/N] [L/N] of the Eighth Division Military Police Brigade, to be a bit more formal."

"[Y/N]...," He mused, my name rolling off his tongue like molten sugar, "Well I hope you'll have an answer prepared, because this isn't the last you'll see of me."

"Whatever you say," I rolled my eyes. Hopefully he would wake up and forget this ever happened.

A random cadet he ran into? As the Lieutenant of the Survey Corps? I laughed to myself. Crazy bastard.

——————

When I got back to the MPB quarters, I was met by squad supervisor Sekova Lehrer.

"Cadet [L/N] reporting back from the morning patrol. Sincere apologies for my tardiness, Sergeant Lehrer-"

"Enough pleasantries. You know full well I don't give a damn if it's not inspection day," Lehrer interrupted in distaste, her severe blue eyes piercing into mine, "But I didn't think you were one to pick fights. Westly maybe, but a head-low weakling like you?"

"Fights?" I looked down at my arm where Lehrer's eyes were focused on.

I belatedly realized that my knife wound was tightly tied up by a length of pristine, white fabric. It smelled faintly of blood, fresh soap, and spiced cognac.

When did he have the time to do something like this? Without me noticing, at that.

"It got cut on some shattered glass," I explained flippantly, "But if you're not looking for a report, then why were you waiting for me?"

"Well I was waiting on Westly so he could do his damn job, but looks like he didn't come with you. I bet the fucker's getting drunk on his own and causing a mess," She cursed before roughly heading back into the building.

Westly's not here yet? I blinked in confusion. Whatever, Leher's right. He's probably blackout drunk in a ditch somewhere.

I brushed the thought away and took a quick shower before retiring to my quarters early. It was the better alternative to fighting my way into the mess hall and having to deal with obnoxious superiors.

Rule #16, Eat while on patrol as much as possible. It's better to starve than to try to get food at the mess hall.

It was a lesson I learned early on. Unfortunately, I didn't have the time to eat while I was out.

If only my superiors were more like Lev-

Nope. I stopped that thought before it could go anywhere. Joining the Survey Corps after years of preparing for the MPB was complete nonsense. There were people who were willing to risk their lives to be in my position; a sheltered, high status, wealthy officer. Far from the wall, and even further from the titans. Just me, luxury, free...bee...tree...

Did I miss my calling as a poet? Maybe I should just give it all up and become a poet.

I laughed at the thought, but somehow, it left me feeling strangely peaceful. Peaceful enough to drift into a sweet, spice scented dream.


End file.
